You Crowned Me The King
by ChimeraDragon
Summary: Something's not right with Derek... Warnings for: Dub-con, torture, and not happy fun times.


Derek gives a feral grin at his prey.

At the teen bound in ropes and duct tape. He waits for those amber eyes to open with as much patience as he can muster.

"Hmrf," Stiles groans into the tape across his mouth. His eyes blink open slowly, roaming over the room and trying to figure out what's going on.

"Ah ah," Derek reprimands in an almost gentle and playful tone. The dark circles under his eyes and the strange gleam say otherwise. He flicks a zippo in his hand as though it's something he does all the time. "I don't want you to hurt yourself before the fun's even started, now would we?"

Stiles' eyes go wide as he sees the lighter in front of his face, bright and lit. He screams into his gag again and tries to squirm away from the heat and light.

"Do you know his sweet his misery is?" Derek asks as he pulls the lighter back, tone conversational as he closes the lighter with a flick of his wrist.

Stiles stops struggling as another horrifying realization comes over him. This isn't Derek. It looks like him and sounds like him, but it is certainly not the wolf. He eyes the man before him with a critical eye, trying to figure out what's happening.

"Confused, Little Spark?" Derek asks, voice mocking now. He passes one hand through the flame of the lighter before flicking it shut again.

Stiles nods his head slowly, hesitant to give out information.

"Your wolf isn't all here," Derek says with an ugly laugh as he plays with the lighter. "He's been ... temporarily misappropriated." Derek smirks, knowing how the phrase will affect the teen before him.

Stiles swallows hard as he listens and hears the change in tone. The edge and ... evil for lack of a better word. He shakes himself and looks right into the eyes he knows so well and yet are so different. He huffs impatiently as he watches the form he's so familiar with and yet not.

"I know how much you wish he was. And it's going to get worse. So much worse for you, Little Spark," Derek coos as he walks over to run a hand in a mockingly-loving manner down the side of the teen's face.

Stiles growls and jerks his head back, trying to get away from the touch. He'd never admitted it out loud but he'd always hoped he and Derek could be more. He knew the wolf was waiting. He'd seen the looks and careless brushed and physical contact.

Claws come out and cup the delicate face, pricking the skin carefully but threatening. A low rumbling growl vibrates the room for a few moments.

"I think you'll see, we're much better at growling than you, human," Derek snarls, voice darker than ever. He squeezes harder, bruising the delicate flesh of Stiles' jaw as claws pierce skin just enough to draw a hint of blood. He shakes the teen's head a little, not enough to give him whiplash or do any real harm but to show the threat can be easily backed up at any point in their interaction.

Stile's eyes widen and he mumbles into the tape, body shaking and a tear escaping one eye. His breathing quickens and the room starts to spin as a panic attack looms in the near future.

"Ah ah... none of that. It won't be any fun if you're unconscious," Derek reprimands gently as he releases the teen's face only to cup it gently and black veins run up the length of Derek's arm, pulling the pain and overwhelming emotion from Stiles. Enough to calm the panic attack back to a manageable level. "I bet you didn't know your little wolf could do that, did you? Born wolves have so many neat little tricks. Especially one like this," he gestures to his body with a sweeping gesture.

Stiles makes a questioning noise, eyebrows drawn together. He'd never actually had a panic attack around Derek. He had no idea. And Scott had only been a werewolf a year and a half. Who knew what they could do? His abilities seemed to expand with time and his ascent to True Alpha status. And Derek could do things Scott hadn't been able to do. Laura had even been able to become a full wolf. Peter had his twisted Alpha form.

"No. I'm not lying," Derek says, grin back in place as he pulls his hand away. He circles the bound teen before him, movements entirely predatory. His feet make very little sound on the cement floor as he moves and the claws of both his hand are now out. He grins and the fangs in his mouth look more threatening than usual. A flicker of electric blue just before he leans in close to lick up the side of Stiles' face with a moan of pleasure. "Do you have any idea how good your fear and anxiety taste? Derek here wouldn't like it all that much. But me? I love the taste of human suffering. You had that Nogitsune? It fed off the emotions of others and their pain. But nothing like me. I live for. I'm stronger for it. And no amount of moss or lichen is going to take me down. Certainly not in this body. It's too strong. Too resistant to ... almost everything. And before you think about it... wolf's bane isn't going to work very well. I can push it out of his body. And you and your friends would only be hurting little Derek in here." He pauses to back away, wicked smiles and creepily psychotic eyes. He laughs and the sound echoes through the room eerily.

Stiles whimpers and tries to say something else. He's really begging to be let go. To let Derek go. His friend's been through too much in his life to have to deal with this kind of crap right now. It's not fair. And he feels powerless to stop any of it. He's only human after all. The thing inside of Derek said as much.

Derek's head rolls on his shoulders as he watches the teen struggle with the influx of information. The thing inside him loves this. The attempts at pleading. Trying to save themselves. Their friends. He can literally feel the suffering coming from the teen and he bites his lip at the pleasure he feels from it. It makes his cock twitch with interest and he makes sure he's standing right in Stiles' line of sight when he readjusts himself in the tight pants. "You like?"

Stiles shakes his head in denial. He's always wanted Derek, but not like this. This is... wrong. Twisted. And whatever's inside of him is making the whole experience even worse.

"I can smell it on you, you know... you really shouldn't lie to me. It makes me very cross," Derek's voice is harsh as a snarl spreads out over his features and he takes the two steps closer and lets his claws dig into Stiles' thighs enough to pierce through denim covering them and draw blood to the surface. There's no black lines on Derek's arms this time and Stiles screams behind the tape over his mouth as he writhes in the chair, skin chafing against the ropes holding him in place as he futilely tries to get away from the pain.

Derek pulls his hand up and licks the blood from his claws with an obscene moan, enjoying every drop and bit of residue as he cleans them with his tongue. The whole display is both erotic and terrifying.

Stiles breathes hard through his nose as soon as he gets a chance to trying and deal with what just happened. He shakes his head in denial of what just happened and he tries to pull himself back together. He huffs a few times before managing to look back up at Derek's face, trying to see if there's even a hint of the wolf he knows and loves and cares about in there.

He sees nothing.

"Yes... You see how futile it is now?" Derek asks as his mouth pulls up on one side in a mockery of a smile. He lets his hands drop to his sides as he stalks just a half a step closer to straddle Stiles' thighs. He drops his weight onto them; aware of just how much it's going to hurt, and his smile widens at the scream of pain. No matter how muffled. "You and the wolf will feed me for a long time. A very long time."

Stiles trembles and tries to keep himself from struggling in his bonds and causing himself even more pain. He tries to breathe calmly and work his way through to the other side of this fresh wave of hell. He mumbles something against the gag and tries to work the tape off.

Derek tisks at the attempt and lets a single claw pierce through the tape and into Stiles' bottom lip. He leaves the claw there even as he pulls it out of the teen's lip and waits. "Go ahead. Taste yourself. Your suffering. I'll let you try it this time, and you can try Derek's later."

Stiles shakes his head in denial as he refrains from the urge to lick his lips just to soothe the hurt.

"Do it," Derek growls. "Or I'll start breaking him. He can feel it you know."

Stiles' eyes widen in surprise as he mumbles a questioning sound.

"Everything... Everything..." Derek replies with a mad cackle. "He feels everything. He sees everything. He hears everything. He'll feel it as I part your flesh with his claws. When I tear you apart. When I take you roughly. Don't worry," he soothes mockingly. "I won't break you. Broken toys aren't any fun to play with. But keep in mind... he'll also feel it when I tear into _his_ skin. Into _his_ flesh. Maybe I'll make him ride you, just to make him bleed. Just to make him suffer. Let him have control as you both climax. He's never been with a man before. Did you know that? Never. It'd be quite the experience." The smile is even more cruel and much wider at the prospect of inflicting such suffering on the two mortal beings in the room.

Stiles screams into the tape and he struggles harder, rope biting into him and causing him to start to bleed as he tries to free himself. He honestly doesn't know what he'll do if he gets free... just that he wants; no craves, his freedom. He needs to find a way to save Derek from this thing. From this fate. There has to be a way.

Derek pushes him back into the chair with an effortless movement and another dark chuckle. "Lick it."

Stiles swallows hard a few times and finally; closing his eyes to block out the image before him of Derek eager to see him taste his own blood, lets his tongue give a kitten lick across the claw in his mouth. He winces at the flavor that hits his tongue. He's never liked the taste of his own blood. And he's pretty sure at this point that he never will.

"Such a good boy," Derek coos as he tilts his head with that same manic smile and retracts the claw from the tape, tearing a small hole. "And look, we've made a little hole to make this much more interesting. Where should we start?" he asks, tone conversational despite the setting and madness in the wolf's eyes.

Stiles shakes his head slowly, trying to keep from jarring the body above him. His legs throb slightly in time with his heartbeat where Derek's weight is pressing into the cuts. He's not sure if he's glad the feeling is dulling or terrified it will mean the _other_ will want to make fresh ones. He knows he's not getting out of this without pain.

Derek grins and picks his body up to stand and walk around Stiles, enjoying the light tremor that moves through the teen. He hums thoughtfully, claws and fangs fully retracted for the moment. "Maybe I should break some bones. What do you think?"

Stiles shakes his heat vehemently in denial. He knows he'll pass out if that happens. He wasn't so sure he'd be okay if Derek decided to start poking him again. Threatening to give him piercings in places he'd never wanted to even _think_ about.

"Alright. None of yours. For now," Derek replies, sounding like he's doing Stiles a great service. "But I do want to feel you. Every way I can have you."

Stiles swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing hard, and he shakes his head. "No," he manages to mumble through the hole in the tape.

"But you don't get an opinion. Not unless I demand it out of you," Derek counters as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I think I'll start ... with your clothes. You won't be needing them." The claws come back out and slowly slice through the plaid over-shirt the teen is wearing, shredding it in several places but leaving it on for the moment. "Did you know he's actually mildly afraid of fire? In certain instances he's nearly petrified. Shakes like a child who's lost his mother at the mall."

Stiles shakes his head as he sees a lighter pulled from Derek's pocket. He doesn't know where this is going but knows he wants no part of it. And sure as Hell that Derek doesn't want anything to do with it.

"Ah, but this is gonna be fun. We're gonna test your endurance, and his," Derek replies as he flicks the lighter open and sits back on Stiles' legs, more carefully this time, lips curling into a snarling smile. He ignites the lighter and looks at the flame with a grin. "Reminds me of home."

Stiles lets out a yell, trying to dislodge the wolf again.

"Ah ah... don't want to do that. You might hurt yourself. Or light both of us on fire. Don't want that. At least... not this early in the game. Do we?" Derek soothes, voice mockingly soothing. He presses a hand on bare skin and lights Stiles' left sleeve on fire. "Don't move too much... you'll ruin all my fun."

Stiles can't help the scream that's ripped from his throat as he watches his clothes catch fire. Panic starts to set in even as he sees the black lines start snaking their way up Derek's arms. He feels the heat from the flames and the watches as it blackens his clothing, getting ever closer to his skin with every second. It takes a few more seconds for him to realize he's only feeling a little heat... not the pain he knows he should be feeling with flames this close to his pale, fragile, human skin.

"That's right..." Derek replies as he closes the lighter and grins as Stiles' eyes latch onto the black lines on Derek's arms. "I'm taking your pain even as I'm giving it to you. And I'm not going to let you have a full blown panic attack. You won't have enough mind left to worry or process what's happening to you."

Stiles struggles harder as he sees the flames get down to his long sleeved t-shirt and lets loose another scream as he sees the hairs on his arm shrivel up.

The suddenness of Derek's hand clamping down on his arm and smothering the flames stops the screams.

"Like I said... You won't be any fun if you're too broken," Derek replies as he lifts his burned palm for Stiles to see. He turns his hand over so they can both watch it heal. A shiver runs through Derek's body and he laughs. "Did you see that, Little Spark? He's so terrified and in so much pain he actually managed to do something with his body. Nothing worthwhile, but still... amazing what the mind can do when it's pressed hard enough, don't you think?"

Stiles shakes his head for a second as a new scream of terror tries to rise before he manages to process what he's just been told. He nods frantically. "...yes..." he manages to mumble through his gag.

Derek smiles, the expression almost genuine as his skin finishes healing. The black lines have finished crawling up his skin and he flexes his hands, making sure everything is working well before he turns back to Stiles. "That was fun. Maybe not for the two of you, but it was a lot of fun for me. So... what should we do now?"

Stiles shakes his head. He doesn't want to suggest anything. It could be warped too easily. He gives a shrug and nods his head towards the wolf on his lap. He's going to defer judgment. Maybe if he can make the ... whatever it is inside Derek ... happy enough it won't torture the two of them too badly.

Derek gives a wicked smile and flicks the lighter several times without actually lighting it. The silver zippo flashes in the light several times before it's actually lit. He watches the flames for a few moments before putting it out again. "I think I want to see more of your skin. You know he's actually had dreams about licking you from mole to mole. Making constellations out of them. See how many of them line up with the night sky?" he laughs like he's just told the punchline to a particularly hilarious joke.

Stiles' eyebrows draw together as he listens. He can do that much for Derek even if he never gets to come back. Even if they both don't make it out of this. He deserves to have someone hear this. The teen isn't really sure why he thinks the thing inhabiting Derek is telling him the truth but it's the same part that told him Jackson was the Kanima and Matt was evil. He's always trusted that part of his mind. It's never been wrong ... yet. He hopes it's not wrong now.

Derek's face hardens at the lack of response and he growls lowly.

Stiles jerks back like he's been slapped, more than a little startled. He shakes his head without anything having been said, eyes wide. He holds his hands up as far as they'll go bound to the chair.

Derek's head tilts to the side and he pauses. "You must have liked the fire more... we'll do that more then. He hates it. You know how much he hates it? Loathes it really. I can let him talk. Give him control of his head, his voice, his eyes while I control the rest of him. Would you like to hear it?"

Stiles' eyes widen further and he shakes his head feverishly. He doesn't want to see that. He doesn't want Derek to have to watch as he and Stiles are tortured at the same time while he has the barest glimpse of control only to be able to do nothing with it.

Derek nods. "I'll let you talk for a minute... maybe two if I'm feeling generous. My gift to you for all the pain you've already given me."

Stiles tenses as Derek's body slumps down on him, head crashing into the teen's shoulder. He doesn't dare to breathe for a few moments, before he feels a gasping intake of breath as Derek's whole body stiffens.

"Stiles? Oh my god, Stiles!" Derek's eyebrows are drawn together as he tries to pull away and finds his legs are completely uncooperative. He pauses and cocks his head as though listening to something. He shakes his head, eyes defeated as he looks back. The dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

Stiles shakes his head and shrugs. He knows there's nothing Derek could have done. They didn't even know this could be a thing until it happened.

"Do you... would you like me to get that off?" Derek asks after a few seconds of silence as he points at the tape.

Stiles shrugs again. He's not used to being silent, but it could be useful in this particular instance.

Derek uses his nails; human nails, to carefully pull up the edge of the tape. It comes up fairly easily, sweat and spit having done a lot towards loosening it up. He manages to get it all off and tosses it on the ground with a weak growl. "Stiles," he murmurs as he leans into the human under him.

"Derek," Stiles manages, lips dry from screaming and the tape. "It's okay. It'll be okay. We'll manage to get through this." He leans his head against the wolf as much as he can.

"You don't know that. And ... I'm not strong enough," Derek replies, voice broken and small sounding. He leans into the strength and warmth, hardly believing that Stiles is six years his junior. It's easy to forget with how well he handles things, and manages to get the Pack out of the scrapes he does. "I can't fight this ... I don't even know what to call it. Him. It's a him. Or as much a male as his kind acknowledges." His eyes get that distant quality to them again and he winces.

"Derek! This isn't your fault," Stiles counters quickly. "You didn't ask for this. We didn't even know _this_ could happen. Much less to a werewolf. We'll figure this out. We usually do. You and me? We make a pretty killer team." He tries to give the wolf a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, but we usually start off in better shape than this. This? This is a disaster," Derek replies with a wistful sigh as he tries to enjoy the warmth before him. He shakes himself. "Stiles... I... don't know how to stop it. How to protect you from what it wants. What it's ... he's planning to do. Quite frankly? it scares me. A lot. A lot, a lot," one of his thick eyebrows twitches up as though to emphasize his point.

Stiles gives a shaky laugh as he looks over the older man on his lap. "You don't think you could get me out of these ropes, do you?"

Derek looks thoughtful for a moment as he tries to summon his claws unsuccessfully. He shakes his head, shoulders slumping more in defeat. "Sorry. It... he's too strong. I'm lucky I can even move my hands. He can give as much or as little control as he deems me worthy of having," he shrugs, mind trying to find a solution to the problem at hand. "Did you...?" he cuts himself off, not wanting to lay this kind of thing on Stiles' shoulders. His emotions have never been a priority and they don't need to be now.

"Do I what?" Stiles asks as he looks over the ropes. He's pretty sure the chair is too sturdy to use Chris' trick of getting out of the ropes. He'd probably just manage to give himself a concussion at this point, and that honestly wasn't going to help either of them. Well, maybe the thing that was possessing Derek. But not the people Stiles was wanting to help.

Derek shakes his head as he tries to deny that he'd been about to ask a question.

_You should ask him. Might be your only chance._ The voice in Derek's head taunts him, knowing how he feels.

"Do you like me?" Derek finally asks, eyes downcast and aimed away from the teen before him.

"Yes," Stiles replies automatically, not realizing what's being asked at first. "Oh. Oh!" he shakes himself, trying to get Derek's attention. "Yes! Yes, I like you ... as more than a friend!" Stiles blurts out before Derek can pull away and back into himself again. He tries to lean forward to press as much of himself against Derek as possible and manages to get his forehead against the wolf's shoulder.

Derek leans into the touch, mind trying to piece together what's being said. He looks up, trying to watch Stiles' eyes, shock clearly evident on his face. "You... do?"

Stiles huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, you idiot. I do. Why do you think I willingly stick around you so much? I enjoy your company, Sour Wolf. I like hanging with you. I like sniping with you. I'm in love with you. And as far as confessions go? This one sucks."

Derek huffs out a laugh of his own as he listens to Stiles' reply and confession. "Me too."

Stiles cocks his head, not entirely sure he heard Derek's reply. "What? You too? You like me too? Or you're in love with me too?"

Derek lets a smile grace his features for a few seconds. "Both parts of that. I like you and I'm in love with you. It's why I didn't come by. Why I didn't want you here when this happened. And why ... every bit of this is ..." he cuts off, face contorting in pain as he shivers and shakes like he's being electrocuted.

"Derek!" Stiles shouts. "Derek! Are you okay!? What's wrong? What's happening?"

Derek slumps forward, body still shaking and shivering occasionally as he gasps for breath. A whine starts high in the back of his throat as he tries to pull himself together. "...can't..." he manages to whimper. He shakes himself and hardens his resolve as he looks up into Stiles' eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Stiles demands as he tries to rub his head against Derek.

"This," Derek scoffs as he makes a wide, sweeping gesture to the room around them. He lets out a broken laugh as he tries to bet himself back under control. "And he's right... the fire bothers me a lot," he swallows hard. "And ... can I kiss you?"

"Why?" Stiles asks, eyebrows drawn together in confusion even as he licks his lips in anticipation.

Derek recoils a little, confusion written clearly across his face as he looks at the teen under him.

"I mean, yes! I was just wondering ... why now?" Stiles is quick to interject before Derek can question his resolve about the kiss. The teen has been dreaming about the wolf's lips on his own for a lot longer than he was strictly comfortable thinking about or admitting. Of course he'd starred in more explicit day dreams as well. Stiles feels the beginnings of a blush crawling up his face.

"Oh, that's... good," Derek replies as he saw the blush and hears the sound of Stiles' heartbeat pick up a little. He feels the corner of his mouth pull up in a half smile, and he leans forward, moving slowly so the teen can pull away if he feels overwhelmed. "Now?" he asks, voice and expression clearly uncertain.

Stiles nods mutely as he moves to close the distance. His eyes flutter but he resolutely keeps them open, not wanting to miss a second of his first kiss with Derek. Even if it ends up being their only kiss. He wants every moment of it etched into his brain. Into his soul.

Derek groans into the action as his body relaxes into the kiss. His heart thumps hard in his chest as he finally gets what he's wanted for so long. It feels right despite the fact that his own legs won't work and Stiles is tied to a chair, unable to move away. His wolf howls with joy at having the person that means the most to him since the fire with him. Like this. With the potential for more thrumming under their skin.

Stiles breaks away first, gasping for breath. "That... was awesome!" he grins despite the situation.

Derek can't help the smile that's dragged onto his own face as he looks at the other. "It was perfect."

"Well, yeah, but that's 'cause it's you," Stiles retorts as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Almost perfect," Derek corrects as he looks around them. The dingy basement they're in with the poor lighting, the chair Stiles is tied to, and the situation as a whole. "But I'll take it."

Stiles smiles softly and leans in for another kiss. Content to kiss Derek for as long as the ... whatever it is, lets them.

Derek's body jerks a mere second after their lips make contact and his expression turns ugly as he leans in and forces Stiles back in the chair. His tongue dominates the kiss and keeps the teen from breathing for several minutes before pulling back to let him catch his breath again.

"Well that was touching and good. Maybe I'll make sure to have some fun with you before I break you more," Derek says, voice hard and mocking as he trails his hands over Stiles' face in a mockery of tenderness.

"Fuck you," Stiles spits. Pissed off that that first time he and Derek finally get past their insecurities to finally admit what they mean to each other and it's ruined by the ... thing inside Derek.

"I do believe that was one of the options I offered earlier," Derek replies with a raised eyebrow and a lecherous grin. "Though I think I want to play with you more. Derek here really hated the whole fire episode and now that he knows his feelings for you are returned? That's going to make this even more delicious for me. He's going to scream and cry, and try to get control of his body back." The lighter comes back out and flicks to life. "It's going to be fun. And you can scream all you want. No one else is going to hear you. Just the three of us."

Stiles struggles in his bonds and growls, the sound fierce enough to make Derek proud of him.

Derek ignores his struggles and goes back the already burned sleeve. "You know the drill. Hold still so I can have it. All of it. And I won't let you get burned too much." He touches the lighter to the edge of Stiles' over-shirt and it catches immediately. The lighter gets flicked shut as Derek's hand rests on Stiles' neck and starts pulling the pain from him as the fabric writhes and burns.

Stiles can't help the scream as he feels the flames lick his skin this time before Derek smothers them with his hand. He shivers as the after affects of the pain wrack his body, even as the wolf before him continues to finish siphoning off the pain.

"Such beautiful pain, Little Spark," Derek coos as he watches the skin of his hand knit back together again. He flexes the hand and shivers as his cock starts to harden. "And that's not him. That's me. It feels so good. Did you want to taste him? Ride him? Fuck him?"

Stiles pulls back from the harsh wording and lewd suggestions. He feels physically revolted by the suggestions being lobbed at him even as his arm throbs. He shakes his head. "No. But thanks for the offer. I don't think I wanna try that with a total psycho like you. I think ... I'd rather have sex with Peter than you."

"Oh, now that's just low and mean," Derek replies as he clutches his chest in mock injury. He wipes the amused expression from his face. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to make the decision for you."

Stiles rears back and tries to head-butt Derek as the other leans in to force another unwanted kiss.

Derek snarls as he's hit right on the nose, blood pouring down his face as the cartilage snaps back into place. He glares at the teen before him, watching for another other moves. He grins and brings a hand up to Stiles' jaw and hold him still.

"Since you enjoyed the taste of blood so much before," Derek starts as he swipes his tongue over his lips and collects the blood. He leans forward; thumbs digging in to force the teen's mouth open, and shoves his tongue in. He holds the mockery of a kiss until Stiles is writhing and brushes his tongue against Derek's before the wolf pulls back to watch.

Stiles can't help but gag. Just the thought of having someone else's blood in his mouth makes him want to throw up. The fact that it's Derek's blood? Far worse. He turns his head to spit out what he can as soon as his jaw is released and he shudders hard.

"Did you enjoy that, Little Spark? The taste of his pain and suffering, and desperation. It's delicious, isn't it?" Derek asks, grin firmly in place and mildly unhinged as he licks the rest of the blood off his face. He wipes his fingers through the blood he can't reach with his tongue and licks that off as well.

"Go to hell," Stiles snarls as soon as he can without feeling like he's gonna puke.

"Where did you think I came from, Little Spark?" Derek asks, tone conversational again as he grins wickedly. He walks around the teen a few times, eyes calculating as they sweep over the teen's bound form. He taps the zippo against his lips thoughtfully as he circles again.

"I'm guess, New Jersey's out of the options?" Stiles snarks, as he tries to keep from following the wolf's movements. He knows it won't help and could just end up making him feel dizzy.

Derek laughs cruelly as he pauses in front of the teen. "Tell me ... how much to your care for this wolf?"

Stiles rears back, startled by the sudden question. He gapes like a fish for a few moments, mind trying to figure out the ... whatever it is... what it's game plan could be. "What?" he manages to get out.

Derek tilts his head and the grin seems to get more wicked. "How. Much. Do. You. Care. For. This. Wolf?" he repeats slowly, emphasis on every word to make sure Stiles doesn't miss a single one.

"I ... what are you really asking?" Stiles asks warily. He doesn't want to give the other too much to work with. Too much to hold over either of them.

"Do you want him to come out of this? Alive?" Derek asks almost offhandedly. He picks at a loose thread on the sleeve of the red Henley he's wearing.

"Of course," Stiles replies automatically. "I want both of us to walk out of here."

"Then give me something precious. Something no one else can give me," Derek replies, tone flat and face hard as he sits back down on Stiles' injured thighs. He leans forward, weight distributed carefully as he drags a claw over the t-shirt Stiles is wearing. He neatly slices it down the middle before dragging the claw back up the teen's chest.

Stiles swallows hard. "What do you want?"

Derek's mouth pulls up at the corner in a mockery of a smile as he stares deep into the amber eyes of the teen. He flickers his eyes blue for a moment before settling. He licks his lips slowly before answering. "What do you think I want?"

Stiles shakes his head. He doesn't want this. Not like this and he knows this isn't what Derek would want either.

"Your refusal will just mean I do whatever I want. A deal with me would be better than me doing whatever I want... don't you think, Little Spark?" Derek asks, wicked grin still in place as he lets a finger caress from his temple down the side of his face and ending in the center of the teen's clavicle with just the barest hint of claw. He pauses for a moment at the hollow of the teen's throat before bringing the claw up to Stiles' left shoulder. He switches to using all four fingers and drags his hand down to where the rope has him bound the the chair at his wrists, shredding more fabric as he goes.

Stiles curses, not sure he's using actual words ... not as he tries to squirm away from the very unwanted touches as he watches the _thing_ possessing Derek move like that. He gasps out a whine as the claws move across his over-sensitized skin, where he'd been almost burned. "Stop!" he demands, eyes watering.

Derek's head tilts to the left; a nearly canine expression, as he pauses, claws pricking slightly into the skin of the younger man's wrists. "Why? You don't want to give me what I want so I'm going to take other things. You _will_ give into me," he makes a dismissive gesture with his free hand. "Even if it takes a while."

Stiles shakes his head. "If ... if I ..." he swallows hard. He doesn't want to make the offer he feels he's being forced into, but it might be their only chance. If he lets this _thing_ have it's way they most likely will end up dead. This... it's just a word. It's just sex. And it could end with them making it out of this whole screwed up situation alive. If a little broken. "If I give you... my virginity... will you promise to let both of us live?"

Derek's head moves back and he pulls his hand away from Stiles' skin to tap a claw against his own lips. He looks thoughtful for a few moments as he looks over the teen as thought calculating how serious he might actually be. "Both your virginity and his?"

Stiles' eyebrows draw together as he tries to figure out what 'Derek' is getting at. _Both of them?_ "What do you mean, _both_ of us? Derek's not a virgin..." he says out loud, trying to figure out what's being asked of him.

"Remember what I said about Derek never having been with a man? It still holds true," Derek replies, voice light. He could be talking about the weather for all Stiles could tell from his tone. "I want his virginity and yours at the same time. You take him."

Stiles rears back in shock. He shakes his head for a moment. "But..."

"No 'but's. No consultation. You have to make this choice. Will you take Derek's virginity?"

Derek asks again, tone harder as though he's quickly losing patience with the whole situation.

"What's your name?" Stiles asks, trying for a different tactic and wanting to buy some time to think over this situation. Would Derek hate him for this? Would he ever want to talk to him again? Would this break the fragile thing they had going on between them?

Derek rears back this time, clearly surprised by the question. "What?"

"Your name. You have one, right? I just wanna know it. What's the harm? It's hard enough to distinguish you in my head. I don't like thinking of both of you as 'Derek'. So... what's your name?" He even uses air-quotes with his hands still bound to the chair.

Derek smile softens a little as he looks over the teen before him. "Very well. You simply want a name to call me, right?" Stiles nods mutely. "You may call me Dazael. It's one of a few I've used over the years. It's as much my name as any would be."

Stiles swallows hard as he realizes that he can't come up with anything else to keep them safe. "Can... will you untie me at least? It's not like I can get away."

Dazael cocks his head; it's so much easier on Stiles' mind to have a name for the entity inhabiting Derek's body, and watches the teen closely for any signs of deception. "Why?" he finally asks, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Stiles can't help the blush that rises on his cheeks. Nor the way his heart rate picks up noticeably. "So I can ..." he swallows hard, nerves jangling uncontrollably. "I wanna prep him."

Dazael raises the other eyebrow in surprise. "And why should I let you do that? He'll heal."

"You said it yourself. 'Broken toys aren't fun' and it could hurt me too," Stiles gives a shrug.

Dazael's face hardens and turns angry. "What's the real reason?"

Stiles can't keep the eye contact. "I don't want to hurt him his first time."

Dazael's face soothes back out as he contemplates the discovery, looking a lot like a kid a Christmas. "Really? Any reason for that?"

Another hard swallow from Stiles as he tries to figure out a way to say what he wants without adding fuel to the fire. "I'm ... in love with him," Stiles finally admits slowly as he tries to avoid the gaze of the wolf before him.

Dazael smirks cruelly as he lets his claws drag over the delicate skin of Stiles' cheeks as he looks over the teen, appreciating the form before him. "Maybe... You'll let _me_ take you afterward?"

Stiles swallows hard, worried about what saying yes to that could mean. It wasn't likely to be okay. But at least he'd have the chance to be with Derek first. And maybe... maybe they could be okay after this. "Will you let us go after?"

"Your pain and suffering... both of your virginity?" Dazael looks thoughtful. "But where am I to go when I leave? I need a host to be topside..."

Stiles blinks at the comment. He gives as much of a shrug as he can manage while he's still tied to the chair. "I don't know. I'd suggest some serial killer or something... someone that shares your ..." he mentally flails for a few moments while he tires to come up with just what he wants to say. "Interests?"

Dazael throws his head back and laughs, almost seeming to be genuinely amused by the comment. He takes a minute to get himself back under control before he looks down at the teen. The humored expression looks good but still _wrong_ somehow on Derek's face. "You amuse me, Little Spark," he says after a moment as he leans in close, not threatening at the moment. Just close enough to make Stiles uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"I'm ... glad?" Stiles asks, uncertain what an appropriate response would be. He's not sure what to do about this. The demon inside Derek seems content to talk for the moment. He's just hoping Scott and the rest of the Pack are looking for him... for them.

Dazael's face hardens as he practically glares at the teen. "You should to everything in your power to make sure you stay on my good side. Keep me in good humor. You really don't want me unhappy." He gives an unhinged smile.

Stiles nods, not wanting to upset the mercurial creature before him.

"I will let you prepare him," Dazael says suddenly as though he's come up with some grand idea. He paces around Stiles, movements quick and a little jerky as he looks around. "I think there's something..." his voice trails off as he starts digging around through the various cupboards and boxes around the room. He grumbles and growls lowly as he digs, the sound of claws tearing through wood and cardboard reaches Stiles' ears before a sound of triumph. "Here we go!"

Stiles swallows hard, almost afraid what will be revealed when Dazael comes back around to face him. "What'd you find? Motor-oil doesn't work very good... just for reference."

Dazael laughs as he walks back around holding a bottle of cheap lotion.

Stiles swallows hard, but nods at the offer. It's better than spit or nothing. And honestly, he didn't want to see what Dazael would use instead. "So... about these ropes?"

Dazael give a dark smile and unsheathes Derek's claws close to the teen's face. He slowly brings them over the delicate skin of his wrists as he slowly shreds the ropes around Stiles' right arm. "I think that should be enough. Should I let him be in control while you prep him? Or should I just let him feel it as I have you get us ready?"

Stiles shivers slightly at the evil in the tone but decides his best course of action will probably be to say nothing for the moment. He shakes his head and makes a non-committal gesture as he flexes his hand to try and get feeling back in it again.

"I think I'll maintain control then," Dazael says after a thoughtful moment as he undoes his pants and bends over, presenting his ass for Stiles. "Just make sure to be quick about it. If you take too long I'll take control of this and we'll go at _my_ pace... And I hate to tell you, but I don't think either of you can keep up with that."

Stiles nods feverishly, not wanting to lose the tentative amount of control he has over their predicament. "No! I'll be fast. I promise. I just want to take a little time... is ... will that be acceptable?"

Dazael gives a slightly impressed look at the teen along with a small smile of approval that sends a chill up Stiles' spine. "Yes. That will do just fine, Little Spark. I think we'll all be able to enjoy that. Just remember... if I get bored or think you're trying to play for time, I'll take over. Oh, and you might want to start thinking sexy thoughts because I want to start this as soon as this body is prepped."

Stiles nods again; head almost looking like a bobble head toy, and reached out for the lotion. "Got it! That's me. Mr. Punctuality. Just let me know if I'm going too slow for your liking."

Dazael looks over his shoulder, "Now, where would the fun in that be?"

Stiles swallows hard as he moves to quickly slick up his hand and reach out to the butt before him. He runs a reverent hand over the pale, taunt flesh before him. He knows he only gets a moment but he tries to make sure that Derek can tell how much he doesn't want to do this like this. He moves his finger to the puckered entrance to Derek's body, fingers trembling a little in uncertainty as he starts to press forwards gently. He closes his eyes as he feels the tight heat envelop his finger and move in with little resistance.

"Hm," Dazael murmurs appreciatively. "Now that's good. I forgot how good it could be when you take your time. Keep going...I might even let you have a little extra time if you can make me feel good."

Stiles nods again and pulls his finger free to add lotion and press in again, running his middle finger around the rim trying to push in as soon as he can. He feels the moment Derek's body accepts his finger and the heat clutches to him with a shiver. He's not entirely sure if it's a good shiver or a bad one but Dazael moans and presses back against the intrusion.

Stiles swallows hard and starts to spread his fingers, trying to make sure that Derek's body will be ready for him when they have to get the main event of the evening. Well... he's really hoping that it's going to be the main event of the evening. Maybe he can wear Dazael out a little. Give the two mortals a little bit of a reprieve. He pulls his fingers out and adds more of the lotion before pressing in again. He can't help with way his body responds to the promise of that heat wrapped around his waking cock.

"I can smell it," Dazael says with a grin as he presses back as Stiles adds a third finger to the mix with even more of the lotion. He rocks his hips and makes the teen's long, slender fingers hit his prostate. He lets loose with another moan and an impatient thrust of his hips towards the questing fingers.

"Smell what?" Stiles asks, slightly confused as his fingers still inside the body before him and he's pulled from his thoughts back into the present.

"Your arousal," Dazael replies as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right... well... you know Derek's kinda one of the hottest people around. Not hard to ... get hard for him. Or around him. Or when you have your fingers buried in him and know that you're going to be inside him shortly," Stiles babbles as he moves his fingers some more before pulling them back to work on his jeans. It's hard to get them undone with one hand on the best of days but with the lotion it's even harder. He berates himself for not thinking of that first.

"Let me," Dazael says as he turns around, a wicked and sensual smile on his face as he reaches for the teen's pants to help him out of his predicament. His hands make short work of unzipping the jeans and pulling Stiles' erection into the cool air of the basement. He leans down and licks a stripe up the underside. "Nice to see you're proportionate."

Stiles' head leans backwards, over the back of the chair as he's overwhelmed by the fact that another person is touching him.

Intimately.

Someone that's incredibly hot and been the star of many a late night jerk session.

Not to mention how hot Derek's tongue is against him.

"God!" Stiles whines as he manages to get his breath back for a moment. His free hand curls unconsciously in Derek's hair as he's engulfed in wet heat as Dazael sucks him down to the root. He misses the way the demon removes Derek's pants while the teen is distracted by his mouth.

Dazael bobs his head a few times before pulling off with an obscene pop, lips red and shiny with spit. "Hm... you know he's never done _that_ either. This is such a delicious round of firsts. For both of you."

Stiles manages to shake himself back to the present just as he feels Derek's body hovering over him. He opens his mouth to say something. Anything. When Derek's full weight is dropped onto the teen's legs and he's engulfed by the heat of the wolf's body. "Oh my God..."

"Not God, but close enough," Dazael says with a self-satisfied look on his face before he lifts himself and slams back down, body clutching helplessly at the intrusion. "Hm... you're quite a bit bigger than average. Feels... overwhelming for this body."

Stiles' hand scrambles to purchase on Derek. Slow him down or help him bounce ... he's not sure. But something. He can't believe how good this feels considering the circumstances. "I..."

"Feel good," Dazael finishes. He grins and pulls off to turn around before sitting back down again with a groan that could be pain. "Hm, that's the spot. Too much and right on the prostate. Just how I like it. Overwhelming and pleasurable."

Stiles feels like he's about to swallow his tongue at the dirty talk . He can't help but feel like he's on the verge of tearing the wolf before him. He winces and tries to use his hand to slow him down but to no avail. "Dude! Slow down... you're gonna tear."

Dazael laughs, head thrown back, and the sound punctuated by huffs and groans as he slams down. "Maybe you should have prepped him more."

Stiles growls and tries again, tugging at his still bound arm until he bleeds without realizing what he's doing to himself. "Stop!" he begs.

Dazael pauses, chest heaving as he turns to look over his shoulder. "No. I told you how this was going to go. I gave you the parameters for this particular transaction. You have to live with the costs. Well... that's assuming that I let either of you live through this. I might just kill the both of you for the fun of it."

Stiles snarls against his bonds and the comment. "You promised. We made a deal. You and me."

"I guess I did. Good of you to make sure we made that deal," Dazael counters with an impressed smile and a slight huff. "But your wolf doesn't go free until _I_ have a new body. A new host. And you're going to help me find one... aren't you? It's not part of our deal, but you'll do it anyway. Just to see your wolf go free that much sooner."

Stiles hangs his head at the comment but doesn't disagree. He shivers as the body above him clenches unexpectedly and pulls a quiet moan out of him. He can't help the rush towards orgasm. He's never been with someone else and it's hard to hold back, especially since he knows the body over him and surrounding him is Derek. No matter that it's not Derek in control of his body at the moment. His body doesn't care about that. "Derek..." he whines as he feels himself get even closer.

Dazael's smirk widens at the tremors that wrack the body under him. He can feel the suffering that practically pours off the teen. Shame and guilt in almost equal measures. "Such pain..." he murmurs, voice almost awed. "It's fantastic what a werewolf can withstand. And how much it pains soul mates to do this to them. Nothing quite like it. Anywhere."

Stiles' whole body shivers as he feels his orgasm start in the base of his spine, working it's way outward. He tries; uselessly, to hold back even as his hips arch to bury his cock further into the body above him. He feels his testicles empty into Derek's body and the teen slumps back in the chair, shame burning across his mind even as pleasure sings through his veins.

Derek's body stiffens as he comes, shivers wracking him as he lets loose. He blinks blearily, hands reaching blindly for Stiles even as pain and pleasure shoot up his spine in equal measure. "Stiles?" he ventures, voice breathy as he tries to process what's just happened.

Stiles' head snaps up and his free hand moves to catch Derek's as soon as he notices the lost expression in the other's eyes. "Derek? Derek!"

Derek blinks and focuses on the teen. He tries to give a smile but it comes out pained as he shivers.

"Hey, I'm here," Stiles tries to soothe the wolf. He leans as far forward as he can and pulls Derek towards him, managing to get the older male's head to rest on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Derek shakes his head as he leans into the offered comfort. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't ... it's my fault."

"How is this your fault?" Stiles asks, tone serious as he breathes in the scent of Derek. And something familiar. Disconcerting. Something that nags at the back of his mind. Something he should know.

Derek shakes his head and shrugs with one shoulder.

"This isn't you. It's not your fault..." Stiles insists, trying to make sure the words sink into the other man's mind. "We'll figure this out. Just gotta keep trying, right?"

Derek huffs but can't help the half-smile that's pulled out of him. He nods slowly as he rubs himself against the teen. "I …"

"Don't worry about it. I know it's gonna suck, but let's be honest. This could have been much worse. I can think of at least ten ways losing my virginity would have been worse," Stiles says as he leans back a bit and tries for a careless smile. It misses but the thought behind it doesn't and some of the tension seems to drain out of Derek. "I'm just sorry yours was taken like this. But we can safely say our first time together was both awesome and sucked hardcore, right?"

Derek's eyebrows draw together in confusion and he tilts his head in a clearly canine expression.

Stiles huffs out a sort of laugh and shakes his head hastily to stop any doubt in the wolf's mind. "I guess ... I mean, I was hoping you'd want to go out with me after this."

Derek lets the side of his mouth lift in an expression of amusement as he leans down to press his forehead against Stiles' own. "Yes. Besides, we need to show those idiots at your school you're a catch. My catch."

Stiles can't help the laughter that breaks free, shaking them both. He freezes as the motion rips a quiet moan out of Derek. "You okay? Dude, please tell me I didn't hurt you..."

Derek shakes his head as he tries to recover from the unexpected burst of pleasure. "Unexpected..."

"What? The movement? Are you too sensitive? Was it too much? Are you hurt? Did I do something wrong?" Stiles babbles as he tries to look over every inch of the wolf without jarring him further.

"You moved and it made you press against my prostate," Derek replies bluntly even as his smile widens a little.

Stiles sits still for a moment while the information processes before he gets it. "I.. oh! Oh! Oh my God!"

Derek holds onto the teen as he bucks again, ready for the other to brush across his prostate this time. He still shivers at the stimulation but manages to keep his voice calm and level. "Calm down. I think... I think he wants us to ... go again. Do you want to?"

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Why? Why would a demon want us to have sex?"

Derek gives a one-shoulder shrug at the question. "I don't know. But maybe we can take advantage of it?" His head tilted like he was listening to Dazael again. "We get this chance... if you're up to it. He thinks it will be ... "

"Harder on us?" Stiles finishes with a raised eyebrow of his own.

Derek takes the comment as confirmation that the teen isn't objectionable to the idea. He places both hands on Stiles' broad shoulders and slowly rocks his hips experimentally. Another shiver moves up his spine as the teen's erection brushes against his prostate. His mouth lifts in a small smile as he picks himself up a little before letting gravity pull him back down.

"That's..." Stiles tries to say, but his eyes are closed as he tries to concentrate on the feeling of the other man around him. He rocks his hips to meet Derek on the other male's next downward thrust and his eyes fly open at the wolf's gasp of pleasure. "That's good..." he finally manages.

Derek nods his head as he concentrates on keeping the angle so Stiles can hit his prostate on every stroke. He leans in to brush his lips against Stiles' in a gentle kiss.

Stiles leans into the kiss with fervor as their lips meet. He moans into the touch as he bucks up into Derek's body, almost unconsciously. Bringing both of them closer with every movement. He pulls back to drag in several gulps of air as his hand tightens on Derek's shoulder as he draws close. "Derek..."

"I know," Derek replies as he smells the increase in pheromones in the room. He manages to lean in, head against Stiles' shoulder as his whole body tightens and he comes hard again, body shivering as he comes back down. "Stiles!"

Stiles blinks open bleary eyes as he comes back down with a happy smile on his face, their situation temporarily forgotten.

"Nice of you to join me again," Derek's voice cuts through the haze of pleasure like glass shattering.

Stiles' eyes snap open in shock and he pulls back as far as the chair and ropes will let him. "Dazael," he practically snarls the name out as he glares at the demon looking out through Derek's eyes again.

"Ah, so nice of you to notice the differences. It's so nice to be noticed for who you are," Dazael says, voice nearly playful as he mockingly strokes down the side of Stiles' face. "And you're so good for him."

"What do you want now?" Stiles demands, spine straight as he faces the demon before him like it's something he does every day.

"You know what I want," Dazael replies as he leans back, looking disinterested in the whole conversation. The false smile falls from his face as he turns serious. "You've fed me well. Both of you. But I think I want to go back to physical pain. I like. A lot. It's such a unique flavor. Person to person. And getting to use lovers against each other? Even better. It's like it's my birthday. If I could remember when I was born."

Stiles tries to look unaffected by the commentary, but his natural curiosity won't let it go. "You don't remember when you were born?"

Dazael shrugs as he stands, letting Stiles slip from his body as he moves across the room to try and find his pants. He shakes them out and slips back into them, ignoring the semen leaking from him as he turns back to Stiles with his lighter in hand. "I was human once. A very, very long time ago. Died. Went to Hell, and was reforged into a demon." He gives a careless shrug. "But enough of that. I want to play with you." He quickly does up Stiles' pants, making the teen somewhat presentable. As though it would matter to either of them at the moment.

"I'm sure you do," Stiles mutters.

Dazael gives a blinding smile as he unsheathes his claws and circles Stiles slowly, claws dragging randomly over skin and clothing, pricking and catching occasionally. He sniffs deeply as the scent of blood starts to rise in the air again and his grin widens.

Stiles hisses and winces as each new spot of blood and claw mark register. "Why Derek?"

"Hm?" Dazael asks as he pauses in his circle.

"Why Derek? Why chose him as a host?"

"His pain. His suffering... it called to me. As it would call to any demon looking for a body when coming up here. We need power when we get here and someone that's already in pain? Easy meal," Dazael replies with a shrug as he starts moving around Stiles again, claws digging a little deeper on the new pass. "Go ahead... scream, yell, curse me and my lineage. I've heard it all and it's fantastic. But the way you say it... hm... haven't had anything quite that good in a while."

"Screw you," Stiles spits out harshly even as he tries to keep in the cream he can feel trying to fight it's way free.

"You already did," Dazael counters as he pauses in front of Stiles with his head cocked to the side and a knowing look on his face.

Stiles makes a wordless sound of rage as he struggles in his bonds, not sure what he'd do if he actually got free. But he can't just sit back and let this ... thing inside of Derek do this without protest.

"I love how much you hate me," Dazael says as he stops to slam Stiles' right arm back down onto the armrest of the chair before lighting his sleeve on fire. Black lines race up his arm and neck as he pulls the pain from the teen as fast as he gives it. He moans like it's the best thing in the world, letting the flames actually lick against the pale arm of the teen for several seconds before smothering it with his hand and moving backwards; out of reach, again.

"We'll figure it out," Stiles snarls.

"Figure what out?"

"How to get rid of you," Stiles promises, voice and face hard even as he cradles his newly hurt arm to his chest. He doesn't let the pain get to him, but pushes through it, making his tone even. "I can promise you that."

"I look forward to..." Dazael's voice trails off as he cocks his head to one side as though listening to something. "Clever dog," he murmurs, voice slightly awed. "Looks like you'll be getting your chance sooner rather than later."

"What do you mean?" Stiles demands, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Your wolf managed to hide the sound from me," Dazael says as though it explains everything. "And your friends are here. Guess I just have time for one more little trick."

Stiles' eyes widen in acknowledgment as he hears the sounds of howling and wood splintering. He manages a shout before Dazael smacks him hard enough to knock him dizzy, but not completely out. He tries to blink the dizziness out of his eyes as he hears the door to the basement splinter and sees Dazael turn with a snarl aimed up the stairs.

"Stiles! Derek?" Scott's voice; muffled by his fangs, floats to Stiles.

Another snarl and a roar. Stiles can't make out who's who with his head muddled like this. He opens his mouth to say something but the only thing that comes out is a pained noise.

"Stiles!" Scott calls.

"Back off," Derek's voice. Derek's body gets in the way of Scott and the others.

"Not..." Stiles tries to say, his mouth won't work right and he can't seem to get the words out.

The sounds of a scuffle as Dazael in Derek's body takes on Scott. They both get thrown into walls before they stand, crouched, fangs out, claws red. They snarl at each other, readying for another attack. Scott's eyes flare red as Derek's flash blue in response.

"Stop!" Stiles whines, barely managing to get the words out.

"Stiles! What's going on?" Scott demands. Isaac and Allison stand on the stairs, faces uncertain as they watch the scene unfolding before them.

Stiles shakes his head, his head is fuzzy and nothing is making sense to him at the moment as he tries to push back the swimming feeling. "Not him," he manages, voice quieter.

"What?" Scott asks, the cute, confused puppy expression on his face as he looks between Derek and Stiles.

"Aw," Dazael says as he turns to Stiles for a moment and straightens, the snarl slipping from his face. "And here I thought you might let me play with your friends a bit before letting them know what was going on. Maybe a little payback? I guess I should have figured that you would be spilling our little secret. What with how much you care about your little Wolf here, Spark."

The wolf fades from Scott's features as he looks from the confused looks on his friend's faces to the scene before him. "What's going on? Stiles...? What happened? And why are you ... What's wrong with you Derek?"

Dazael rolls his eyes and his head as he looks at Scott, bored with the whole situation now. He pulls out the lighter and flicks the top several times. "Too bad Stiles isn't really in good enough shape to tell you what all _we've_ been up to. But your friend Derek isn't in right now. Just us Demons. And you won't be getting him back," he grins as he leans in close to Stiles. "And that smell that's been bothering you? The one you just couldn't place? It's gasoline." The last statement is barely a breath, and hard to catch.

Stiles' eyes snap open with a cry of surprise as the lighter is lit and pressed to the middle of Derek's maroon shirt. "No!" he cries and tries to reach for Derek as the shirt catches immediately.

"Enjoy the show," Dazael says as as he steps out of range for Stiles' free hand and Derek's eyes roll back in his head and a flash of dark smoke escapes from him before he collapses with a scream.

"Put him out!" Stiles cries as he sees the flames licking Derek's body. He watches as Scott and Isaac pounce on the older wolf and help shred his clothes away to keep them from burning any faster. Derek writhes and cries out as he rolls, trying to put out the flames while keeping himself from falling into a panic attack that will have him freezing up completely. Stiles can't help his own panic attack as he watches, eyes transfixed as much as his body, as their friends scramble to stop the flames.

Derek's screams shift to howls, whimpers and whines as he starts to loose the battle against panic.

"Stiles," Allison's voice cuts through Stiles' own panic as she quickly and neatly slices through the ropes holding him to the chair. She shakes his shoulders until he stars breathing normally again. Or more normally. She watches as Isaac and Scott finally manage to get the flames out on Derek.

"Is he... is he still alive?" Stiles asks, voice small as he clings to Allison, eyes glued to Scott's back as he waits for the verdict.

Scott looks up and nods, face exhausted. He pulls his own shirt off and covers Derek's soot and burn covered body. The born wolf is healing quickly but the blood dripping from his nose is more worrisome. And his unconscious state. "We should get them to Deaton," Scott says to Isaac and Allison.

Allison nods and helps Stiles to his unsteady feet, guiding him up the stairs. "Hey, we'll get this figured out. It was a possession, wasn't it?"

Stiles' head snaps up in surprise as he focuses on the hunter. "Yeah... how'd you know?"

Allison bobs her head. "We found a trail of your scent and Derek's but there was something wrong with it. We did some research and realized what that circle by the Nameton was for. It was for possessing a wolf with a demon. We'd been looking up ways to get rid of it but we'd finally caught a lead on where it had taken you."

"You... did?" Stiles asks as he climbs into the back of Allison's car.

Allison nods as she gets in. "Yeah. Apparently Derek made sure to leave us some clues as to where you were. We'd thought he was still looking for you and the ritual had caught some other werewolf. But the clues we found... they kinda pointed to Derek as the one that took you."

"Thanks for finding us," Stiles says softly, eyes still a little distant as he tries to figure out if he's concussed or not. He's leaning towards concussed when the door opposite him opens.

"You gonna be okay if we put him in the back with you?" Scott asks as he leans down with Derek's dead weight threatening to pull him off his feet. Werewolf strength be damned.

Stiles turns sideways on the seat and opens his arms. "Give him here," he says and helps pull the solid wall of muscle and dead weight onto his chest. "I'm okay," he adds as he sees Scott and Isaac watching him from the door. "Push his feet in and shut the door. I wanna get out of here."

Derek moans and rolls onto this side, body falling limp again as though he'd expended all his energy just to get a little more comfortable. "Mine..." he breathes into the fabric over Stiles' knee.

Stiles lets his hands card through the thick black hair as he starts to drift off himself. It was never gonna be perfect but at least they were both still alive, right? He doesn't even realize he's drifting off from the adrenaline crash until he jerks to full wakefulness as the door behind him opens and he half falls out of the car. Only Scott's supernatural reflexes keep him from meeting the ground. He blinks up at his friend's face and manages a smile. "Sup, Scotty?"

"We're at Deaton's. Think you can get up?" Scott replies deadpan before cracking a smile of his own at his friend's antics.

Stiles scoffs and tries to move without removing Derek's weight from his legs and fails. He looks down, almost surprised by the fact that he's not only still pinned, but that the older man's arms are now around his waist. "You'll have to get my furry octopus off. Then ... maybe. But I think my legs are asleep now."

"Dude, you're gonna have to get him to let go. He tried to bite me, and Isaac, when we tried from the other side of the car," Scott replies as he keeps Stiles propped up.

Stiles looks down, eyes not keeping focus, and gently pets through Derek's hair. "Dude, you gotta let me go. We're at Deaton's and we need to get checked out. M'kay?" he asks as he stops petting to pry at the large hands around him. They move fairly easily, despite the whine from Derek as he's forced to let go.

Scott helps Stiles practically ooze out of the car without further protest from Derek as the older wolf curls into the warm spot left by Stile's body.

"At least one of them is on their feet ... more or less..." Deaton says from his place at the door.

"You're funny. You know? Did anyone ever tell you? You should be a comedian," Stiles deadpans as he's helped past and into the back. He winces as he touches the cold of the exam table but lets Scott get him up onto it and laid back. "Make sure Derek's okay, please?"

"I was just getting ready to head that direction," Scott assures his friend as he turns to leave the room.

Stiles picks at his shirt as he waits and hears Deaton's unhurried footsteps as the vet walks into the room.

"And how are you feeling, Mr. Stilinski?" Deaton asks as he pulls on a pair of latex gloves and faces Stiles with his usual calm expression firmly in place.

"I'm fine. My head hurts and I want to know if that demon can get back in Derek. And I want to know if Derek's okay. And when can I leave? And how long have we been missing?" Stiles replies, aiming for sarcasm to begin with but quickly fading to true worry.

"Well, I'm going to look you over and make sure everything is alright. As for Derek, we've already destroyed the circle that allowed him to be possessed in the first place. As for it happening again? Highly doubtful. It is very difficult for anything to possess a werewolf. Especially a born one. And Derek's a former Alpha, so he's stronger than most," Deaton replies as he goes through the process of examining Stiles while offhandedly answering his questions. "You look like you'll be fine. Just let me know if your headache gets worse. As for how long you've been gone? Five days. And your father was informed on day two."

"I told him we'd found you when we got you in the car," Scott says as he walks back in the room with Derek's arm slung over his shoulder. Isaac grunts as they wait for Stiles to hop down and sit in one of the chairs before getting Derek situated on the table. "He's on duty right now but he's on his way here. There were search parties sent out for both of you. But he's called them off."

Stiles gives a little half smile and nod as he hears about his dad. He's glad his dad's been kept in the loop. "Thanks man, I owe you."

Scott waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. That's what friends are for. And you'd do the same for me."

"True, true," Stiles replies as Scott slumps into the chair next to him. He bumps his shoulder against his best friend in a show of support as Isaac sits on the other side of the alpha.

"He doesn't look like he's healing like he should," Stiles says as he looks over Derek, truly taking in the older man's appearance. Derek's head and face seemed largely untouched but the rest of him doesn't look so lucky. His arms, chest and legs are burned fairly badly, and the new, freshly healed skin seems to almost be struggling against the burns. "That's not normal, is it?"

"No. It's not, Stiles," Deaton replies before walking out of the room for a moment. He looks up as a whine from both Scott and Isaac catch his attention. He walks back in the room with a jar of some strange smelling salve. He sets the jar down and snaps on a fresh pair of gloves before starting to look over Derek. He moves the shirt aside and makes a thoughtful noise before looking up. "I think he'll be okay. But some of these are worse than others. And the burn went up his neck a bit. Badly too." He points at the left side of Derek's neck where a nasty, oozing burn seems to crawl up the wolf's neck and spreads under his jaw a bit. Derek whines in his throat as Deaton's gentle, gloved hands touch him and Derek tries to shy away from the hands on his wounded flesh. Deaton shushes him softly, and waits until he'd quieted before dipping into the jar and starting to apply the salve to Derek's chest.

"No..." Derek snarls weakly as he tries to swipe at Deaton, claws out, clumsily swinging at the vet.

Stiles moves without thinking and grabs a hold of Derek's hand, stopping him with laughable, human strength. "Derek, no!" he calls out as he tries to soothe the other.

Everyone freezes as Derek's hand stops and he sags into the teen's hands with a soft sound. He leans into the touch slightly as though seeking comfort.

Stiles ignores everyone in the room in favor of Derek and leans in closer. "Hey. It's just me. And Deaton, and Scott. We're trying to help you, but if you try and attack we can't help. Okay?" he asks, voice low.

Derek gives a little huff and a whine but lets his body relax. He gives a tiny nod as his claws and fangs retract.

"Very good, Stiles," Deaton praises as he dips his hand back into the jar to slowly and gently start applying the salve again. He works in relative quiet, lips pursed together as he works and frowns from time to time as he notes burns that seem to refuse to heal. He finishes quickly and steps back to change his gloves and get out gauze. "We'll need to bandage the worst of them while he heals."

"He will though... right?" Stiles asks as he looks up, eyebrows drawn together in concern. His hands don't leave the wolf's hair as he looks over the others in the room before letting his eyes stop on Deaton again.

"I believe so. Do you know what caused his clothes to catch fire?" Deaton asks with a raised eyebrow as he sets the gauze by Derek's head and moves to his legs to get started.

"His clothes were soaked in gas," Scott offers, trying to help as best as he can as he grabs a pair of gloves for himself and moving to Derek's other side. "But it didn't smell like regular gas."

"Yeah... there was something familiar but off about it," Isaac adds, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. He hands gauze over as Scott and Deaton work, and Stiles keeps their patient calm. "I don't know what it was …"

Deaton frowns as he pauses at Derek's upper thigh and tapes off the gauze. He grabs a pair of tweezers and pulls something out of the wound before bringing it up to his nose to sniff at it experimentally. "It's wolfs-bane," he says, tone flat and his face showing surprise. "That's why he's having trouble healing. His clothes must have been coated in it."

The teens in the room stare at the vet with wide eyes.

"What!?" Stiles exclaims as he looks down at Derek with worried eyes. He feels bad for the older man. No one deserves this kind of crap. Nobody. And now that they know how they feel about each other it's much worse. Knowing how much pain Derek went through.

"Don't worry. That salve has wolfs-bane ash in it. It will counter the affects. We'll need to make sure we didn't miss any part of him though. If any of it's left it could give him the equivalent of an allergic rash. But we won't need as much where he's not burned," Deaton replies, trying to soothe the teen. He notes the fact that Isaac looks like he swallowed glass and Scott's hands are balled up in fists looking like he'd love to get his claws into the person that started the whole mess. "He should be fine. He just needs rest at this point."

"Well, we should take him somewhere a little more comfortable than a metal table...yeah?" Stiles replies with and uncertain look towards the others. He wrings his hands as he tries to think, legs getting him up and pacing without his conscious thought.

"Maybe your place?" Scott asks, looking hopeful. "You guys have a spare room. I'd say the loft but we really don't know if that would be okay or not. I highly doubt he'd want to be alone right now... And not to mention he was clinging to you pretty hardcore. I thought we were gonna have to find some grease to get you two apart. I'm betting your dad would be okay with it..."

Stiles looks at Scott like he wants to kiss him for a moment before he lunges forward to envelope him in a hug instead. "Perfect! Can you guys help me? And can I get more of that stuff? In case Derek needs more?"

"We can handle him," Isaac says, piping up and gesturing to Derek.

"And here, you can have the rest of the jar. Just bring me what's left over," Deaton says as he hands the jar and a box of gloves over. "You should only need a very thin layer on anywhere that's still affected or any new areas that crop up. And make sure to use the gloves. You really don't want that getting anywhere... sensitive."

Stiles nods and takes in everything and all the new information. "Yeah. That should be fine. We should get going."

"We should wait for your dad to get here," Scott counters as he places a soothing hand on Stiles' shoulder to halt him from just leaving or getting lost in his own head.

Stiles looks confused for a moment before he realizes they'd already told him his dad was on the way. He nods listlessly and lets Scott guide him into a chair to sit.

"Don't worry. Your dad's gonna be here soon," Scott says, sitting down next to his friend.

"Correction," the Sheriff's voice cuts through the relative silence as he walks into the room. "He's here. Hey Stiles."

"Dad!" Stiles replies as his head snaps up and he moves towards his dad with a feeling of relief.

"You're okay, kiddo," the Sheriff soothes as he he pulls his son into a tight hug. He shushes him for a few moments, letting him shiver against him for a few moments before he pulls back and looks him in the eye. "You gonna be okay? Stiles?"

Stiles nods and wipes his face a bit, trying to pull himself together. "Yeah. I'm okay, dad."

"Good. Now then, we should probably be getting home," the Sheriff says as he turns to leave but pauses as he hears a lack of Stiles following him. "Is there something wrong?"

"Can Derek stay with us?" Stiles asks, looking away. "He ... he needs a place to stay."

The Sheriff looks torn for a moment before he nods. "Yeah. I don't see why not. He needs a place to stay, and we've got the room."

Stiles' face splits with a wide grin, "Thanks, dad."

"Yeah... I'm sure I'll regret this later but, bring him," the Sheriff replies with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'll drive."

Stiles waves at Scott and Isaac. "Lets get out of here."


End file.
